tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16024677632654002202024-02-20T00:25:20.136-08:00adventure on wheelsa journey through places unknownJasminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15502177229226506301noreply@blogger.comBlogger15125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1602467763265400220.post-10494371544468339542011-05-19T01:14:00.000-07:002011-05-19T01:59:44.339-07:00My last days in Laos<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">The ride from Vang Vieng to Vientiane was a case for the top gears. A little sad I left the mountains behind me. The closer I got to Vientiane the more traffic I had to share the road with. I decided to hitchhike the last 40 kilometers because it was getting dark. After I stood there for about half an hour without a car stopping, a couple picked me up because it just started to rain pretty heavy. They had a pickup truck full of bananas which they were about to sell at a market in Vientiane. They didn’t speak any English but we seemed to get along just fine. Then the woman decided that she needed a translator and called up her friend. The communication wasn’t much easier with her friend on the phone, and for some reason I still don’t quite understand they turned the car around and rode back to a restaurant where her English speaking friend was drinking beer. 15 minutes later they started the car again and were finally driving towards Vientiane. My translator sat next to me and asked me for the tenth time where I will stay in Vientiane and for the tenth time I told her: no hotel, friends place. Still 30 kilometers from the capital city they told me that now it’s too late for them to sell their bananas, so they will go back to their village. For a ridiculous amount of kips they offered to give me a lift to Vientiane. Very angry I got out of their car. I didn’t tell them to fuck off, but I hope it was written on my forehead.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">While we were going around in circles the sun set and now I was surrounded by pitch black darkness, only the dim lights of some little stalls and the floodlights of the cars lit up the road. It was too dangerous to cycle. I started to wave my arms at the passing trucks but none of them took notice of the fallang that was standing at the side of the road. Just as I was about to give up and pitch my tent somewhere a car stopped and a young guy gave me a lift to the center of the city.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Very tired I reached the place of Ceci and Celine, two couchsurfers from Argentina and France that are living in Vientiane. The two girls were so nice and their couch incredibly comfortable that I didn’t want to do much more than just chill, chat and eat.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">In the evening of the second day I cycled to the bus station. With my bicycle tied to the back of a bus I fell asleep in Vientiane and woke up in Pakse. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Right now I’m in Don Det, one of the 4000 little islands in the middle of the Mekong. It’s a beautiful and quiet place, perfect to lie in a hammock and read a book, cycle around the island and swim in the Mekong.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Tomorrow I will cross another border. This time it will be Cambodia on the other side.<br />
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<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">In Vientiane with Ceci and Celine</td></tr>
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<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Mekong</td></tr>
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<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Wat Phu, Champasak</td></tr>
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<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Don Det, 4000 islands</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div>Jasminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15502177229226506301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1602467763265400220.post-67767552329216334892011-05-08T00:41:00.000-07:002011-05-19T01:56:33.792-07:00Hills, heat and highs<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Five days I stayed in Luang Prabang, gave my muscles a rest, my bicycle pants a good wash and hung out with some fellow travelers. The days were hot and just relaxing seemed to be the most sensible option. One evening Roger, a Spanish guy, and I managed to go sightseeing and met a 24-years old ex-monk who was just “released” from the temple and was enjoying his newly gained liberty by checking out the girls that were passing by. The next day he showed us some sights in Luang Prabang and set an end to our days of just lazing around.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">15 coffees, 40 bananas, 2 beers and a few noodle-soups after arriving in Luang Prabang I was ready to leave again. A cyclist who I ran into on my way to Luang Prabang warned me about the journey ahead and backed up his words with an altitude profile he showed me. There were 2 scary looking hills coming up. It took me 3 days to get to Vang Vieng. 3 days that, besides the long sweaty climbs, offered me some of the most stunning views and some long downhill rides. Whenever my bicycle tripled its speed without me doing anything my mood went from great to fantastic and I sang along with the song that was playing in my head.<span style="color: red;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">The mornings were beautiful. The valley was covered in a sea of clouds and only the mountain tops were glittering in the sun. The air was still cool and it was quiet. The villages came slowly to life. People <span style="color: black;">trickled</span> out of their houses and disappeared in the fields and kids with sticky rice in their hands were walking to school. Each turn of the road offered me a more spectacular view of the mountains.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Arriving in Vang Vieng was a little bit shocking. On my way here, whenever busloads of tourist passed me (there were MANY of them), I wondered: Where the hell do they all go? Now I know: They all have a jolly good time in Vang Vieng. They wander about the streets in their skimpy dresses, showing off flesh (nice or not so nice I let them be the judge of it), get drunk on dirt-cheap (for them) Lao beer and say things like “protein just makes me too big”. Because I didn’t fancy swapping tales with them about how drunk I got while I was floating down the river on an inner tube (which is one of the attractions here) and collecting new facebook friends, I successfully avoided them and had a jolly good time on my own. I’m the antisocial anti-consumer.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
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<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Luang Prabang</td></tr>
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<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Bicycle parking in front of a school</td></tr>
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<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Two hard working women</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4eFYMXQHg7EoCy57VPsa9k2NZb9QfxjqZX-e0Iu8F218423zbRqGbcUv5x1Bhu5p6Vm_-SRhMWEc95hm8v7NzxCntKrlfTd858M9ACVBD72xZzCLla6O2Mlv5adpU591cuTuqgxXMnqm_/s1600/DSC03212.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4eFYMXQHg7EoCy57VPsa9k2NZb9QfxjqZX-e0Iu8F218423zbRqGbcUv5x1Bhu5p6Vm_-SRhMWEc95hm8v7NzxCntKrlfTd858M9ACVBD72xZzCLla6O2Mlv5adpU591cuTuqgxXMnqm_/s640/DSC03212.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>Jasminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15502177229226506301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1602467763265400220.post-52094894738060874482011-05-07T01:46:00.000-07:002011-05-11T01:52:44.914-07:00The stowaway or how my magic cape got holes<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:RelyOnVML/> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--> <m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent><!--[endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Yesterday I went swimming and used my magic cape as a sarong. Another good thing about my cape is its multi-functionality! </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">So my magic cape was wet and needed to be dried. I hung it over my bicycle (another multifunctional thing) during the night. The next morning, it was still a bit damp; I stuffed it into my little backpack.<span> </span>After 2 hours of cycling, I just finished my noodle-soup for breakfast, I got it out and stared into two eyes, attached to a HUGE (really huge…like 15 cm long) grasshopper (or something alike) that was dangling from my cape. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Poor thing! It was captivated in the darkness of my bag for over 2 hours and must have been terrified. In its despair it chewed 4 holes into the cloth; 4 holes in search of light and freedom.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">In disgust I tried to shake the creature off. With its long legs it was clinging on to the piece of cloth that was almost worthless but very precious to me. After a little fight, which I won, it disappeared in the bushes. I wonder if it will ever find its way back home…</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">As for my magic cape: it still works.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh87A7J1meUq1jKZUbp0WKt6fb1Z__di_Ds6lCqLGb1rngL5mrm3g05fXA2jUSfgpYX0_4Fx-IUvstUGAaXPncgEkC_ljFX90eYYAEyLXrJgqqUiuoavTPkOykuZt5epbRhflUPpgNE-A7Q/s1600/DSC03226.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh87A7J1meUq1jKZUbp0WKt6fb1Z__di_Ds6lCqLGb1rngL5mrm3g05fXA2jUSfgpYX0_4Fx-IUvstUGAaXPncgEkC_ljFX90eYYAEyLXrJgqqUiuoavTPkOykuZt5epbRhflUPpgNE-A7Q/s640/DSC03226.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div>Jasminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15502177229226506301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1602467763265400220.post-80775801023870947952011-04-29T01:32:00.000-07:002011-05-11T01:41:27.624-07:00Noodle soup, sticky rice and Beer Lao<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:RelyOnVML/> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--> <m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent><!--[endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Today I heard it again. My favorite Thai word: ALLOY. So it also exists in Laos! I don’t know EXACTLY what it means, but its best to be accompanied by a wide grin and a thumps up. It’s the perfect ice-breaker. When you like something you, just say ALLOY and everybody knows: the Falang likes it!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">I heard it today at the market in Luang Nam Tha. Hungry I was hunting for some food and slowed down next to a stall where people were eating Noodle-soup, not too sure whether I like what I saw swimming in their bowls. A woman pointed at the empty seat besides her. I sat down. She gave me a spoonful of her soup to try and asked: ALLOY?? ALLOY!! I replied and ordered myself a steaming hot and very tasty Noodle-Soup.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">With a bag full of sticky rice I left Luang Nam Tha and cycled towards Boten and the Chinese border. Only 30 km from the border I had the choice of cycling to China or heading towards Vientiane and the South of Laos. I took a right turn and headed southwards. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">In a little village I tried to get comfortable on a stone, got out my sticky rice and was eyed by the villagers with curiosity. The road went up just to go down the other side again and went down just to climb up again. In the end it was a race against time because with every spin of my wheels the sky turned a little darker. As the first houses of another village appeared I was stopped by some people drinking beer at the side of the road. They filled a glass of ice cold Beer Lao for me and told me that I have reached my destination Oudomxai. After 2.5 month of alcohol abstinence 2 glasses of beer were a lot to take and before they got me completely wasted I bailed out and cycled to a guesthouse, a little tipsy.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">The next day I encountered a road full of potholes and parts where the asphalt seemed to have gone missing. The road only went uphill. My legs were tired and soon I decided to try my luck with hitchhiking. I was on a road without much traffic, so I kept cycling till I heard an engine roaring behind me. I pulled on my brakes, held my thump out and the car came to a stop beside me. A friendly man gave me a ride to Pak Mong which was only 44 kilometers away. The many bumps in the road were too much for my bladder. I had to request a pee stop.<span> </span>He didn’t speak English so I had to sign it to him. As soon as he got what I asked for he stopped, I jumped out and disappeared in the bushes, praying he won’t leave me and take off with ALL my belongings…</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">The route from Pak Mong to Luang Prabang was a blessing: I was cycling along a gorgeous river, there were many kids that treated me like a superstar as I was cycling past them, I received a lot of “free kilometers” by long downhill roads, the sun was shining and the birds were singing….was I dreaming?</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk9SdAool19KbBwcAWFJaxZlkv6hCximDp4uquR1HzFhPmAuHlU55DYdhiQIMZaoNDxh3r0SUSOJytenZ7QHkUeIww_mduBoy5xkFeDbWlvCW4M6PAbrJuOj_CwA_6twBr0Gra2RroCncR/s1600/DSC02987.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk9SdAool19KbBwcAWFJaxZlkv6hCximDp4uquR1HzFhPmAuHlU55DYdhiQIMZaoNDxh3r0SUSOJytenZ7QHkUeIww_mduBoy5xkFeDbWlvCW4M6PAbrJuOj_CwA_6twBr0Gra2RroCncR/s640/DSC02987.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Drinking Beer Lao with strangers</span></td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh9ctbtIe0ut5D7b9uxg9ZeT5kxPDKndxk3S-FWWK7lAj7En4WNsJElv7opKDZZGmGYBIZSBMAcogl2N6K1zPna7mckhyaxwoaylHvhK6FvOeU9Q7GvmyUcEUBd4KT3_nDKl1vUhyhtGUm/s1600/DSC02997.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh9ctbtIe0ut5D7b9uxg9ZeT5kxPDKndxk3S-FWWK7lAj7En4WNsJElv7opKDZZGmGYBIZSBMAcogl2N6K1zPna7mckhyaxwoaylHvhK6FvOeU9Q7GvmyUcEUBd4KT3_nDKl1vUhyhtGUm/s640/DSC02997.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx_JrbTvMKt2oHQbDofBF6kAz0h4dWsd4XBZemPsSNZ9rLiGaXhsad_N_Y4D360ZJ2U09h80XH7Gfu4LJTgWBcr_oZfDaiDDjCWRyMJnC5MnSiDUlcxj9KpSXFRrp7-sjxv4ziUJanRvW-/s1600/DSC03008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx_JrbTvMKt2oHQbDofBF6kAz0h4dWsd4XBZemPsSNZ9rLiGaXhsad_N_Y4D360ZJ2U09h80XH7Gfu4LJTgWBcr_oZfDaiDDjCWRyMJnC5MnSiDUlcxj9KpSXFRrp7-sjxv4ziUJanRvW-/s640/DSC03008.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Hitchhiking to Pak Mong</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaeijF5KaeeKACSEIK6azhsKPJvtO-_BD3nvOhAAt9hx6sTrGhyphenhyphenv1H3MAZ1trOogSTqMcqEy_R9IF7tQ3gcvrRtOPL5TLl6S_LLrp05LIMnDRUrKukzZtND5akibKRzmplG0V1m1yxTgnW/s1600/DSC03049.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaeijF5KaeeKACSEIK6azhsKPJvtO-_BD3nvOhAAt9hx6sTrGhyphenhyphenv1H3MAZ1trOogSTqMcqEy_R9IF7tQ3gcvrRtOPL5TLl6S_LLrp05LIMnDRUrKukzZtND5akibKRzmplG0V1m1yxTgnW/s640/DSC03049.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Nam Ou river</span></td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE_RqTvSWHgTt6QYfScXMHpOm5cOQPTjR9COQ4RCKpq9hodz4P6ipQLQVQyaJ7844wH6P3l-4-5jizRyeL6c726KQfwrFCwebX3cWArQGq9RhKyHVUOzcqIatCm0hfRKob6F6JrMNojsII/s1600/DSC03047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE_RqTvSWHgTt6QYfScXMHpOm5cOQPTjR9COQ4RCKpq9hodz4P6ipQLQVQyaJ7844wH6P3l-4-5jizRyeL6c726KQfwrFCwebX3cWArQGq9RhKyHVUOzcqIatCm0hfRKob6F6JrMNojsII/s640/DSC03047.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY3O2chmIyOqxmJ5Kgb6UWLhXKBtevavmYs6V6U5AUOaOyuEEr1lXmVTMbNeaACVI3bNHz51JCs9WBb9n9D9cKLZTY0UPvpsvt_Cg5d4eloUrd4C1v1BdoHxunnFrvFabWJHMW_KOpuJ87/s1600/DSC03048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY3O2chmIyOqxmJ5Kgb6UWLhXKBtevavmYs6V6U5AUOaOyuEEr1lXmVTMbNeaACVI3bNHz51JCs9WBb9n9D9cKLZTY0UPvpsvt_Cg5d4eloUrd4C1v1BdoHxunnFrvFabWJHMW_KOpuJ87/s640/DSC03048.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div>Jasminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15502177229226506301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1602467763265400220.post-76223248542528048382011-04-24T09:01:00.000-07:002011-05-02T21:44:26.215-07:00My 20 dollar tent<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> <m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac></m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">It didn’t rain the whole day despite the grey clouds that were hanging in the sky above me. “Why would it rain during the night?” I thought to myself when I decided to camp in the middle of nowhere, on a little green piece of land at the side of the road that leads to Luang Nam Tha. The last village was about half an hour away and I had no idea how far the next village would be. My legs were tired and therefore the spot seemed so inviting I could almost hear it calling my name. Behind a bush I parked my bike and placed my bags so they were invisible from the road. I sat down onto my backpack and was waiting for the nightfall to provide me enough darkness to secretly pitch my tent. It was going to be my first experience of camping in the wild and I’m not going to lie…I WAS a bit scared.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">The first problem occurred when the mosquitoes started to eat me. There were still villagers walking home from a long days of working in the fields, so I didn’t want to pitch my tent yet and put up a sign that says I’M A FALANG (foreigner) AND I’M ALONE, COME AND ROB ME. So I was waiting and fighting the bloodsuckers away.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">It was almost dark enough now but I could still hear the hollow sound of a man cutting bamboo. Because a few meters from my “campground to be” there was some bamboo lying on the ground, it needed no Sherlock to know that the man will eventually pass this place and drop off the bamboo before returning to his home. Patiently I was waiting for the man to pack up work. In the meantime the grey clouds above me turned kind of black and threatening. Think positive! This is going to be a good way to test a 20 dollar tent!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">2 workers passed. Their chatter warned me and I could duck down behind a bush. The last worker was quietly creeping through the bushes and I wasn’t quite sure if he spotted my hideout.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">Now that I was only surrounded by the sound of nature I could finally build my shelter and crawl inside it to eat a nice meal of toast with jam and bananas on top. Fearful I was peeking through my mosquito net to check if there was really nobody coming along the way.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">I tried to sleep but with every noise I opened my eyes in shock just to see that there was absolutely nothing going on outside my tent. Only the floodlights of passing trucks kept appearing on one side of my tent and disappeared on the other.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">Then something strange was happening: There was a light but it wasn’t accompanied by the sound of an engine. It came closer and closer and lit up the inside of my tent. I unzipped my “door”, exposed my head to the light and wanted to say something like: “I surrender. Take everything but not my life!” I didn’t know the words in lao at that time so I tried it with: SABAIDEE?!? (Hello) Back came a friendly sabaidee, sabaidee and then the cone of light swiveled away from my face and lit up a little path where the sound of footsteps and quiet whispers disappeared.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">The signs were all there: The lightnings, the clouds…I just didn’t want to face the truth but wasn’t surprised either when heavy drops of rain started falling onto my tent. Within minutes it started drizzling inside the tent. How refreshing I thought! But after a while I covered myself with my 2 dollar “raincoat”. Water came streaming in from the bottom and formed little puddles around my 6 dollar mat.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">The next morning, after a little bit of sleep I woke up with a wet ass. What did I learn? You get what you pay for!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMOIO_EEo8HFlpJ3bI4pdb_CTqUfScguJdcOjiz6gQX7FBaX7weju9CSnWNgZd8tf8v8WRP2mtqwDhyhglzDkndcSu_F3ZxkAJN6R2CPcGM3fkamgXKoHkC6YE9afCoyLeTUxm4AldX35O/s1600/DSC02955.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMOIO_EEo8HFlpJ3bI4pdb_CTqUfScguJdcOjiz6gQX7FBaX7weju9CSnWNgZd8tf8v8WRP2mtqwDhyhglzDkndcSu_F3ZxkAJN6R2CPcGM3fkamgXKoHkC6YE9afCoyLeTUxm4AldX35O/s640/DSC02955.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">My hideout</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwdDm8TT_Fq1XC_1NsCbBwz8HyPS_8u1S-eDpUSlLcyhr3jZR23zW1HB3EHs98vwdKOEOBQ4nzyI801a3zRRQdbTkA3y-uYor_mHo9cIdqwOdqFw7-3WkdABiFgX6tzYuCRcpIMIQkXrxU/s1600/DSC02963.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwdDm8TT_Fq1XC_1NsCbBwz8HyPS_8u1S-eDpUSlLcyhr3jZR23zW1HB3EHs98vwdKOEOBQ4nzyI801a3zRRQdbTkA3y-uYor_mHo9cIdqwOdqFw7-3WkdABiFgX6tzYuCRcpIMIQkXrxU/s640/DSC02963.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">The morning after...</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT7gHMQWu2RRvr7Ol82F1VZcOjUf7P2HZ0G5Tk-P1g2HlvjSPSJEQ4wWhbijp1SJ5vWZd0X9NbwT9-wpXklU7NKj58vcR83aGQf_PY5Wvo4_GxzuhtfQXl-JHY73EWCaz-WLj8NMfNZUQK/s1600/DSC02961.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT7gHMQWu2RRvr7Ol82F1VZcOjUf7P2HZ0G5Tk-P1g2HlvjSPSJEQ4wWhbijp1SJ5vWZd0X9NbwT9-wpXklU7NKj58vcR83aGQf_PY5Wvo4_GxzuhtfQXl-JHY73EWCaz-WLj8NMfNZUQK/s640/DSC02961.JPG" width="640" /></a></div></div>Jasminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15502177229226506301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1602467763265400220.post-89490665734577841232011-04-23T23:56:00.000-07:002011-05-02T22:20:40.208-07:00FALANG ALAAAAAAAAAARM!!!<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Heavily loaded with water and fruits I left Huay Xai and the Mekong behind and cycled inland.</span> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">The scenery passing me by is beautiful. It’s very mountainous, with green fields and forests.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Laos has some very noticeable differences to Thailand: For a country of its size it has not a lot of inhabitants and for the amount of inhabitants it has very little cars. With a frequency of 5-10 minutes cars and motorbikes were passing me as I was slowly rolling up the hills. It’s a cyclist’s dream!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Laos is poorer and much less westernized than its neighbor. Most of the people live in villages, in simple wooden houses. The villagers work in the fields where they grow rice, vegetables and fruits and they exchange goods amongst each other. In the morning I can see people walking to the fields with tools in their hands and in the evening they walk back to their village. Some of them have bicycles, but it’s mostly kids going to school that make up the cyclists of the country.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Between the villages there are many little bamboo huts, along the side of the road, where the workers can seek shelter. I haven’t seen many of them in use, so they make up perfect places for my lunch breaks!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">There are no 7-11’s or other impersonal supermarkets, but very lively marketplaces to buy cooked food, fruits and vegetables and small shops that sell the products they import from Thailand.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Whenever I cycle through one of the little villages the Falang (Foreigner) Alarm goes off.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">As soon as one of the villagers spots me he informs the others by shouting FALANG!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">All the children start waving and shouting: Bye, bye, bye, bye, bye! I hear eeeeeeeh’s and oooooooh’s and bye’s and sabaideeeeeeeeee’s. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">It feels like taking part in a marathon. The only thing missing are the tables at the side of the road, with cups of water, Gatorade and little pieces of bananas.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Kids come streaming out of their houses and the crazy and brave ones even jump into the road to get a hand slap from the “Falang” that is cycling through their village. When I extend my arm and clap my hand against theirs, they jump up and down, and proudly turn around to check if all their friends have seen the spectacle.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQgqOr07ax8zEnKwyDuUrVgeX8Km0QdlEd3baa836qoK5dpvAgZ0Tzp5ubnARIYDQJdRGmhKjFECF5MTLBjKy4lgb20mQdKPp3aKCaxxz9-NLVyGEjOd1-WdCeSh01dvJRJMyxotODV4b0/s1600/DSC02938.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQgqOr07ax8zEnKwyDuUrVgeX8Km0QdlEd3baa836qoK5dpvAgZ0Tzp5ubnARIYDQJdRGmhKjFECF5MTLBjKy4lgb20mQdKPp3aKCaxxz9-NLVyGEjOd1-WdCeSh01dvJRJMyxotODV4b0/s640/DSC02938.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">The roads</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Owt1YvuVKXBecS91PweeT7nP1KoLIRXvVicHHVZtoDsKxGXxxcEtle_Q2nb2dpBhng8e6QlFOLk2ba_u7tDxTeyLswqhCPybN5x0nh500n0jHsvW7g2xgnKKV_Uf6lQOIW0khx81-IUe/s1600/DSC02971.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Owt1YvuVKXBecS91PweeT7nP1KoLIRXvVicHHVZtoDsKxGXxxcEtle_Q2nb2dpBhng8e6QlFOLk2ba_u7tDxTeyLswqhCPybN5x0nh500n0jHsvW7g2xgnKKV_Uf6lQOIW0khx81-IUe/s640/DSC02971.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">The roadside shelters</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDdc95N8IwzcsEoRvbYXX1OAGhsV4Bc3NW-3auDUS-goJMHvG9Ig8Yflnta-lpn0zFHYOzOOxaSdHHVxAYXLOJkTQ9Xpo6TdcIoMapRGfuq0n4k4w6qUioKL4_zVgOa9KybhueAZQu2TjU/s1600/DSC02977.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDdc95N8IwzcsEoRvbYXX1OAGhsV4Bc3NW-3auDUS-goJMHvG9Ig8Yflnta-lpn0zFHYOzOOxaSdHHVxAYXLOJkTQ9Xpo6TdcIoMapRGfuq0n4k4w6qUioKL4_zVgOa9KybhueAZQu2TjU/s640/DSC02977.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Other lunch places</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt8JrXoFhO_0DxCnXiPuITADEZljL8IF3Mu2z7llFz5XC-rYYLORf9qN2yBajf5TEodqrISyNbxxp_MQqvoKKWYfb4VQCRGIQ78Ob3D1Fr4Bwl-hnBqS_5g4pZEC4tlXHjkLfpmHtFroSH/s1600/DSC02982.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt8JrXoFhO_0DxCnXiPuITADEZljL8IF3Mu2z7llFz5XC-rYYLORf9qN2yBajf5TEodqrISyNbxxp_MQqvoKKWYfb4VQCRGIQ78Ob3D1Fr4Bwl-hnBqS_5g4pZEC4tlXHjkLfpmHtFroSH/s640/DSC02982.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">The villages</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3I8D2yDWsssJMu4oVxY_1YSD984aDOgLne1PTJ76ELyTK0KUlHjPM8ToIJkkv12qSX5cAJGa108RewvC2Ogm0UNzlLPNLyznP1TeNLWoS0NbyCzpJkmc4tMIlJ3H0BJD8KJWbf3B6aCYh/s1600/DSC03009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3I8D2yDWsssJMu4oVxY_1YSD984aDOgLne1PTJ76ELyTK0KUlHjPM8ToIJkkv12qSX5cAJGa108RewvC2Ogm0UNzlLPNLyznP1TeNLWoS0NbyCzpJkmc4tMIlJ3H0BJD8KJWbf3B6aCYh/s640/DSC03009.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">The landscape</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2D77yhT_p4F0kJPb5Z1SHf14981r6Y_Z70Sg52-ySfjr-LQvcv_ER2DPN106og9sg0MzCtmOIA7DsMKFU8D7HU7Zk7y4Xxt_0P-7hGMNkeYD7jt0LVZGLTTKPgpN4m09UwV0TRHiMz0cU/s1600/DSC03019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2D77yhT_p4F0kJPb5Z1SHf14981r6Y_Z70Sg52-ySfjr-LQvcv_ER2DPN106og9sg0MzCtmOIA7DsMKFU8D7HU7Zk7y4Xxt_0P-7hGMNkeYD7jt0LVZGLTTKPgpN4m09UwV0TRHiMz0cU/s640/DSC03019.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">The children</td><td class="tr-caption"> </td><td class="tr-caption"> </td><td class="tr-caption"> </td><td class="tr-caption"> </td><td class="tr-caption"> </td><td class="tr-caption"> </td><td class="tr-caption"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwNYorcGbvN8rWHULusz4lLot-ZIZjmKZxhkKQc1DAX6YQlLCVW2bQubDFnfpE24ggMn9Iro_OGl6ONIRgYvF9YW6ngBIoXg822QRz7n7s8N9HfK4Y9xK6-YyjaEUW482mO3pQoGzJL6vD/s1600/DSC03039.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwNYorcGbvN8rWHULusz4lLot-ZIZjmKZxhkKQc1DAX6YQlLCVW2bQubDFnfpE24ggMn9Iro_OGl6ONIRgYvF9YW6ngBIoXg822QRz7n7s8N9HfK4Y9xK6-YyjaEUW482mO3pQoGzJL6vD/s640/DSC03039.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgrxvUMsYcZhr4nH_Bf2TK_QksXbG-i3JtK03OWVGrzkUC6idnqBtP6dmUDxB-GP4VYZNRxfV9yJYFaNrMgxzHMc6GXr0jKOMU4q9RBoyLmADB4dUXPIOsgzOq-TqAms79PxtuH6cFOKDL/s1600/DSC03035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgrxvUMsYcZhr4nH_Bf2TK_QksXbG-i3JtK03OWVGrzkUC6idnqBtP6dmUDxB-GP4VYZNRxfV9yJYFaNrMgxzHMc6GXr0jKOMU4q9RBoyLmADB4dUXPIOsgzOq-TqAms79PxtuH6cFOKDL/s640/DSC03035.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">The admirers</td><td class="tr-caption"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwNYorcGbvN8rWHULusz4lLot-ZIZjmKZxhkKQc1DAX6YQlLCVW2bQubDFnfpE24ggMn9Iro_OGl6ONIRgYvF9YW6ngBIoXg822QRz7n7s8N9HfK4Y9xK6-YyjaEUW482mO3pQoGzJL6vD/s1600/DSC03039.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table></div>Jasminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15502177229226506301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1602467763265400220.post-29464114402814426262011-04-21T23:38:00.000-07:002011-05-02T21:35:16.565-07:00There’s something about border crossings<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">As I was getting closer to Chiang Saen I was getting closer to the Mekong, the river that I will meet many times along my journey. When for the first time I saw its masses of water flowing in the direction I was headed, it filled me with excitement and peace.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">With the first glance of the Mekong came the first time I saw the country that lies behind its eastern riverbank: Laos. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">The grass is always greener on the other side right? In the case of Laos this was really true. Across the river I saw nothing but green hills. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Because there is no official border crossing in Chiang Sean I still had a day’s cycling ahead of me. To get a stamp in my passport I needed to get to Chiang Khong which lied about 55 km downstream. Since it’s downstream and the way leads mostly along the river I thought it’s going to be an easy ride. I was wrong. Not only the views that presented themselves in front of eyes were breathtaking, but also the rides up very steep hills. Many times I had to get off my bicycle and push it. And even that was challenging. Not for my legs but for my arms instead. Ironically that day also presented me with the first flat tire since I started this journey. After I cycled over broken glass so many times in the previous days and nothing happened, this happened now that I really have to exit the country…</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">A few hours later as planned I arrived at the Immigration office in Chiang Khong, where an official exit-stamped my passport and gave me a stern look goodbye. I wasn’t expecting a goodbye speech (something like it was nice to have you in our country please come back) but a smile would have been nice. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Because the Mekong forms the natural border between Thailand and Laos and there is yet a bridge to be built I had the pleasure of crossing the border on a boat!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">“U taking that thing to Laos?” an American guy asked pointing at my bicycle. “Yeah? That is aaaaaawesome!” Yeah awesome…of course I’m not going to leave my lovely bike behind. What a horrible thought!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">With bike and bags I jumped onto one of the long-tail boats that were floating on the river. Rapidly the houses of Thailand got smaller and smaller, and the shore of Laos came closer and closer. Goodbye Thailand, hellooooo Laos!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj05EQ_vAfGoj9F36UTELZZ87Q-kYjlO7DmhtOKe_R2ge0o4CqAozdTwPFJ_X07uSEzNr8lavWAj8MNMNi7d-r0BjzP5xFnuh05O54IHj4YcZKpzN82i-cOuTelJLt5Uu8NjGgZvsCWOrBW/s1600/DSC02892.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj05EQ_vAfGoj9F36UTELZZ87Q-kYjlO7DmhtOKe_R2ge0o4CqAozdTwPFJ_X07uSEzNr8lavWAj8MNMNi7d-r0BjzP5xFnuh05O54IHj4YcZKpzN82i-cOuTelJLt5Uu8NjGgZvsCWOrBW/s640/DSC02892.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">My first encounter with the Mekong</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKFbK8mLtdSlvylTDhr2LLLxS5MNEpJWZvuKXJq1oKMyx85-K3YMAUx3cK0ujhtLCQx1mHT4JyGLI-ICTGF4Er2URZItsAg15SuCfotGafktg1uNrpygwXb75rOh0yZXrogjqWW88uwUtE/s1600/DSC02900.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKFbK8mLtdSlvylTDhr2LLLxS5MNEpJWZvuKXJq1oKMyx85-K3YMAUx3cK0ujhtLCQx1mHT4JyGLI-ICTGF4Er2URZItsAg15SuCfotGafktg1uNrpygwXb75rOh0yZXrogjqWW88uwUtE/s640/DSC02900.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">The golden triangle, where Thailand, Laos and Burma meet</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQlKMPAFn9OgKCysJmXHoyR0I9LNJwle2cuDCWSI0EU-Pzsn8BQLtR09wCFoPPBO4xq-6hCumhtbJBD7KRkniZk4F72vQX_xphsvCNaznsapVgC5-Uqdc33wqMEJn_S3efsHZwpJ9lW4Os/s1600/DSC02922.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQlKMPAFn9OgKCysJmXHoyR0I9LNJwle2cuDCWSI0EU-Pzsn8BQLtR09wCFoPPBO4xq-6hCumhtbJBD7KRkniZk4F72vQX_xphsvCNaznsapVgC5-Uqdc33wqMEJn_S3efsHZwpJ9lW4Os/s640/DSC02922.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Border crossing, from Chiang Khong in Thailand to Huay Xai in Laos</td></tr>
</tbody></table><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQlKMPAFn9OgKCysJmXHoyR0I9LNJwle2cuDCWSI0EU-Pzsn8BQLtR09wCFoPPBO4xq-6hCumhtbJBD7KRkniZk4F72vQX_xphsvCNaznsapVgC5-Uqdc33wqMEJn_S3efsHZwpJ9lW4Os/s1600/DSC02922.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>Jasminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15502177229226506301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1602467763265400220.post-54916472063796174222011-04-18T21:40:00.000-07:002011-05-02T21:15:16.652-07:00Nice, nicer, Thai?<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">The amount of friendly people I met in Thailand equals about the amount of people that tried to rip me off in India.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"> Maybe because we were travelling by bicycle or because we looked dirtier than normal tourists, people didn’t see us as cash machines on wheels and didn’t want to take advantage of us. It was quite the opposite.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Apart from the first two nights in Bangkok we didn’t have to enter a single hotel in the whole time in Thailand! But not only did the policemen and the monks let us camp wherever we wanted, we met a whole lot of other kind people along the way.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">One morning a white Honda pulled up in front of us and out came a hip looking young man, waving his arm up and down in order to stop us. He told us that he is from the Mountain bike club in Singburi and offered us to stay at their club house before we even spoke a word. Because the house was only 15 kilometers away and we wanted to cycle a little more we declined his offer with thanks. He left his number in case we have a problem we can call him ANYTIME. Later, when Theo and I were having lunch in one of the rest places along the road, the same white Honda appeared and the man came out with 2 ice cold drinks for us. He was worried about us and asked again where we would spend the night. Then he offered to pick us up wherever we would get to today, drive us back to the club house and give us a lift to wherever we want tomorrow. Although it sounded tempting because he was such a nice guy we didn’t make use of his offer.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">On a hot afternoon we stopped at a little gas station where we spotted a table to sit down. A minute after we made ourselves comfortable a man came out of the house and gave us two bottles of ice cold water. He joined us, smoked some cigarettes and after a long chat he disappeared and came back with a whole plate of mangoes from his garden and proudly presented them to us.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Another guy that deserves to be mentioned here was a worker that gave us ripe bananas after he saw us taking some unripe bananas that were lying at the side of the road. We just picked about 8 unripe bananas off the bunch and he brought us a whole lot that were ready to be eaten. After a while he came back with a knife and chopped off the whole bunch of unripe bananas and handed them over to us.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">In our time in Thailand we got so many bananas from different people that sometimes I couldn’t remember the last time we paid for bananas.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Then there was the nice doctor that gave us food (and even wanted us to take some money…but that’s another story…), the family that gave me a red bull so I could fly up and down the hills, all the people that gave us rides and all the people that waved to me from the back of the trucks and encouragingly showed me a thumbs-up, that made my time in Thailand unforgettable.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifmjd0Z-mhF5KEkm3k00pYTr2aVGRWbAZuGFFxxgwTW-gcyGh0DQU8YPSvNcixhokpTb9mfFBT6LHCblxpgqinBxtfp7mFSdqDFtpUUwwj1q1A51rfS6t6Y88GCGoCrt3YjPfx6uVWiB2v/s1600/DSC02807.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifmjd0Z-mhF5KEkm3k00pYTr2aVGRWbAZuGFFxxgwTW-gcyGh0DQU8YPSvNcixhokpTb9mfFBT6LHCblxpgqinBxtfp7mFSdqDFtpUUwwj1q1A51rfS6t6Y88GCGoCrt3YjPfx6uVWiB2v/s640/DSC02807.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Drinking Red Bull with a lovely family</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwOME1t8iXT-b3-_puMrCaoQpx38rQAWLuJ-fz8eTRtJ1IaOZu3Q2XOZcf5eport_216BK0MvJ_klTsAbrmi4bUg9VtgHTXf5-K39z62K6hyaRGi3WTm_WxqKeYFBOSy1c2y71OdkfJdAM/s1600/DSC02755.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwOME1t8iXT-b3-_puMrCaoQpx38rQAWLuJ-fz8eTRtJ1IaOZu3Q2XOZcf5eport_216BK0MvJ_klTsAbrmi4bUg9VtgHTXf5-K39z62K6hyaRGi3WTm_WxqKeYFBOSy1c2y71OdkfJdAM/s640/DSC02755.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Theo and the bananas we got from a friendly worker</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7aeMhC0ViLThw55trB2-Jd0x8F0XQ5ytTTlBwAvAVi1fqq0wOt4IWEESifpMT8p_K0-zK8_TbnBhXbEjvxtvpc9dMPXvQ3T_dmZMUK30e77C579roNs0Tonmv1ZibgtJQDuypI3a24m-Z/s1600/DSC02763.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7aeMhC0ViLThw55trB2-Jd0x8F0XQ5ytTTlBwAvAVi1fqq0wOt4IWEESifpMT8p_K0-zK8_TbnBhXbEjvxtvpc9dMPXvQ3T_dmZMUK30e77C579roNs0Tonmv1ZibgtJQDuypI3a24m-Z/s640/DSC02763.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Hospital we camped at thanks to a nice doctor</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrWO9CkG1bbAYXWiKI_Gd6tqS68hk_3E38RggIulNOsDIcB9j6JVYOMLYvxOH4K2ysAMvtOE0Pb-r5UTyxOu3Wuq7f9WD738KzjCNcox8kgs4LB9XY_2skJuDs45DMFRwbI5QuiapoYh23/s1600/DSC02766.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrWO9CkG1bbAYXWiKI_Gd6tqS68hk_3E38RggIulNOsDIcB9j6JVYOMLYvxOH4K2ysAMvtOE0Pb-r5UTyxOu3Wuq7f9WD738KzjCNcox8kgs4LB9XY_2skJuDs45DMFRwbI5QuiapoYh23/s640/DSC02766.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Theo enjoying the drink we got from the worried stranger that appeared in his white Honda</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div>Jasminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15502177229226506301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1602467763265400220.post-46363784709533562032011-04-16T07:49:00.000-07:002011-05-02T20:36:03.911-07:00Salty sweat and sweaty tears<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">So far this journey has been full of surprises, mostly very nice surprises. But there were also challenges.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">One of those challenges was when Theo and I decided to go separate ways and I decided to keep going alone.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">With mixed feelings I cycled out of Chiang Mai. ALONE. For days I haven’t seen any tourists. Now there were busloads of tourists passing me and I was wondering if I’d rather be part of them. NO WAY.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">A woman stopped me and said: “You bicycle. Very good. Very eco”. Then she left me in a cloud of fumes as she drove off with her motorbike…</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Under the relentless blazing sun I crawled up the hills, swallowed down some tears and wiped the salty sweat out of my eyes.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Dead tired I arrived in Chiang Dao. I spotted a temple and cycled through the gate. With sign language I asked a man if I can camp on the lawn behind the temple. Not sure whether he understood me he consulted his son who consulted his English speaking friend on his i-phone. The phone was passed between me and the son a couple of times and a whole family joined the discussion. Who are these people and why are they living next to the temple, I wondered.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">I didn’t want to cause any trouble, so I said “no problem, no problem” and pointed out the gate, towards the road where hopefully another temple would come up.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">It turned out they were only discussing where they could let me sleep. I was taken into the house and before I could resist the 2 sons were kicked out of their room and I was offered a place to sleep on a carpet on the floor. Their hospitality was overwhelming. The grandmother pointed towards the coffee table and grabbed me a packet of soymilk out of the cool box. The mother placed a plate of fruit on the floor of my room and said “sleep, sleep”. It was only 4 in the afternoon!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Later it knocked on my door and the mother handed me a plate of rice, followed by her son who gave me a bunch of bananas and a packet of crisps. After I ate I joined them in the living room and we tried to communicate as good as we could in Thai and English. I found out that they were from Bangkok and just visiting Chiang Dao. How they came to stay at the temple I don’t know…but for me they were heaven sent.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">The next day, another encounter made me decide that cycling alone is easier than I thought!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Fully loaded with water and supplies the friendly family gave me, I continued along the road towards Chiang Rai. The road was flat and I was fast. Mae Sruai with a distance of 131 kilometers seemed a stone’s throw away. But then suddenly some hills presented themselves in front of me. Behind every curve I was hoping to see nothing but the blue sky (which in the meantime turned grey and threatening), but it just kept going up and up. The road would have been a treat, with little traffic and leading through small mountain villages where astonished people stared at me.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">After a well earned 15 kilometers downhill I reached Mae Sruai just before darkness. At a temple that looked slightly abandoned I asked the only monk I saw for a place to sleep. He stepped out of the gate and called 2 ladies who helped with the translation. The ladies pointed to another house and walked me through a gate where on a wooden board I read the letters: “Akha women’s project Mae Sruai”.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Out of the house stepped a tall man and shouted in a Scottish accent: “I take it you’re lost?” I explained to him that I wasn’t lost at all but just in search of a camping spot. Looking at the sky above us he offered me a place inside the house. The timing was perfect because in that moment a massive rainstorm started and it rained the whole night through.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">The house is a place where girls from the Akha hill tribe can stay during the school term. It was sponsored by a Dutch couple and run by a Thai woman, her mother and occasionally George the Scotsman who all welcomed me with great hospitality.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggpotyPkwYHSFJPlKGBPTOZHn5EEW9-eU1-Toc7LultKKwLYfk7FVC68ficdUAeas_C1qeP9dVZqUXUg65ab2N5cJRrVjAxm8qO7smoXqxmUD1Jq67ZqpxOjokuBcA7W6w5M3ztZjFocdz/s1600/DSC02850.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggpotyPkwYHSFJPlKGBPTOZHn5EEW9-eU1-Toc7LultKKwLYfk7FVC68ficdUAeas_C1qeP9dVZqUXUg65ab2N5cJRrVjAxm8qO7smoXqxmUD1Jq67ZqpxOjokuBcA7W6w5M3ztZjFocdz/s640/DSC02850.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Family i stayed with in Chiang Dao</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Ug4IrnZSXRPG2IqWB2XtsszQyRlv0MgEeKbiyatPnCwzXyVpS5Zkgc_vmMLn5qB2oNG4GsmsSp7oQTAapxdoZ9V-loxVZBb_R_m7qU7U5ntHbsJ3tAQyjPFiXGTQnI1NHJbDipst-33n/s1600/DSC02862.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Ug4IrnZSXRPG2IqWB2XtsszQyRlv0MgEeKbiyatPnCwzXyVpS5Zkgc_vmMLn5qB2oNG4GsmsSp7oQTAapxdoZ9V-loxVZBb_R_m7qU7U5ntHbsJ3tAQyjPFiXGTQnI1NHJbDipst-33n/s640/DSC02862.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">The road to Mae Sruai</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5yzaXaBDV101zjksJoNA6ySEAcWa2aApvsCK9YCEaYTXfaIfwY2e6WQDVgw6sPckzryGUiglTp7wRHDJRzI9f0P1ChjpG6OWheNf78tPD1wgf1kunGb78Hlpb8AAt2GGFpU07ObhRabN5/s1600/DSC02866.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5yzaXaBDV101zjksJoNA6ySEAcWa2aApvsCK9YCEaYTXfaIfwY2e6WQDVgw6sPckzryGUiglTp7wRHDJRzI9f0P1ChjpG6OWheNf78tPD1wgf1kunGb78Hlpb8AAt2GGFpU07ObhRabN5/s640/DSC02866.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Akha women's project Mae Sruai</td></tr>
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</div>Jasminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15502177229226506301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1602467763265400220.post-21796979034028194052011-04-11T07:46:00.000-07:002011-05-02T20:18:56.907-07:00The crash<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">A bump in the road and the heavy weight of my backpack crashing down is what broke my back rack. NO WORRIES! With my backpack in the usual position (on my back) I continued, watching out for a mechanics. Just minutes after I heard my rack breaking I saw a little hut with some tools outside, that looked like it could be a bike (motorbike) repair shop, so I pulled on my brakes (not too gently as it appeared…). CRAAAAAAAAAASH I heard a much louder sound than the one before and saw Theo sliding into the street to my right. My rack was now totally bent and my wheel didn’t spin anymore. FUCK. But what a nice coincidence that this happened right in front of a bike repair shop! :D</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">The rack was bent back into position in no time but my back wheel appeared to be bent as well which was the much bigger problem. The mechanics helplessly looked at it and started to hammer onto my rim with a hammer and a stone. A little worried I let those cruelties happen to my bike… He got the wheel turning again but sent us to the next repair shop.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">We decided to hitchhike. Since we had the option of going back to where we came from or to keep going in our intended direction, Theo placed himself on one side of the road and I stood on the other side, showing my thumb to every car that was coming along. Meanwhile a few worried villagers gathered and looked at us and the bicycles. There wasn’t much traffic on the road so it took about 15 minutes till a car stopped. Two friendly Thai men jumped out of the car, exchanged a few words with our helpful mechanics and helped us loading our stuff onto the back of their pickup truck.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">In the next city they stopped at another motorbike repair shop. This time the mechanics was much more professional. He adjusted the spokes so the rim was straightened. He worked on our bicycles (Theo’s front wheel was a bit damaged as well) for about an hour, whilst our drivers were waiting to see if everything goes well. The mechanics didn’t want any money for the time he spent on our bikes and sent us to the next bigger city to double check his work. We thanked all of them a thousand times KOP KHUN KA, waved and smiled as we steered back onto the road.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">Theo’s wheel made a funny sound so a few kilometers down the road we decided to hitchhike to Uttaradit which lied 60 kilometers away. Within minutes a car pulled up and a friendly lady told us that she and her husband were on the way to the next city about 25 km away. We thought about going with them but decided to wait for another car. In that moment I heard her say “I take care you, I take care you”. Sparks in her eyes told me that the helper syndrome has spoken out of her and there is no point in arguing. With bikes and bags we made ourselves comfortable at the back of the truck and relaxing 45 minutes later we reached Uttaradit.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">We were brought to a bicycle shop where my bike got a new stronger rim and a new rack that was more suitable for the 15 kilos it has to carry. This bike shop turned out to be the best that could have happened to us. For 5-6 hours the very friendly mechanics worked on our bicycles and answered all the questions we had regarding quality and maintenance. For his labor he didn’t charge a single bhat and what’s more: His wife and his son, both cyclists, rode with us to the next temple where they organized us a room for the night! Next to a Buddha statue we rolled out our mats and were soon sound asleep.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-0zDfV9pzs7qNt6mnIcXkmI5P-nfywCYnj6vbemCkzIXAWhEQtBRmF3MnHKlEPat2wvInZecbZtc90qMPV9diw-LkiX51fG1N56oAPtKmtvx3r5ZLQ5vcKA3LHQR3ozhdjqELVNGp4dm2/s1600/DSC02803.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-0zDfV9pzs7qNt6mnIcXkmI5P-nfywCYnj6vbemCkzIXAWhEQtBRmF3MnHKlEPat2wvInZecbZtc90qMPV9diw-LkiX51fG1N56oAPtKmtvx3r5ZLQ5vcKA3LHQR3ozhdjqELVNGp4dm2/s640/DSC02803.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Hitchhiking to Uttaradit after the crash</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div>Jasminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15502177229226506301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1602467763265400220.post-78742377793708403822011-04-10T07:41:00.000-07:002011-05-02T20:14:14.723-07:00The 7-11 plastic crap<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">The first time Theo and I entered a 7-11 in Bangkok we were NOT impressed. All we saw were heaps of sugar, preservatives and plastic. We didn’t really appreciate the welcoming dingdong-door sound that is exactly the same in all the millions of little 7-11 stores that are sprinkled around Thailand like smarties on a cake, nor did we like the fact that the air inside the shop was cooled down so much I wondered why they need a fridge. But things change… We got used to the slices of toast that can be eaten in 1, maximum 2 bites and we created an addiction to soy milk. I heard that door sound so many times I even hear it in my sleep and I know one of the first things that I will do when I’m back in Thailand is to enter a 7-11 and buy some plastic crap. (Sorry Theo that you will miss out)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">We also tried to dumpster dive in Thailand. Not so successful though…Apparently at the big supermarkets they have the policy to destroy food that is expired.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">One day we parked our bikes at the back of a 7-11 and were amazed to see 3 boxes full of expired stuff, quietly rotting away. Hungry as we were we packed a whole cardboard box full of heart-attack-causing sweets. The mistake we then made probably saved us from a sugar overdose. Right there we sat down and started to eat some of those plastic wrapped hot dogs. Somebody must have seen us sneaking around at the back. Soon we were surrounded by 7-11 employees, that didn’t look like they appreciate the fact that we were helping them to get rid of their trash. With angry stares they took our booties. Noooooooooooooooo!</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDcxh78Xah7QI-NTPB7KlG220I23Jw9DyrD1Q5jUbyaFw4q4AjgrKoDoQ2OquInK-dtUwruLzq0bYus0qQgDB9BkC3SVQFnwGnXZ5LLJtUwlq39md-2-CA6sQO6xyWV2lBtxSl5joi8Vu1/s1600/DSC02796.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDcxh78Xah7QI-NTPB7KlG220I23Jw9DyrD1Q5jUbyaFw4q4AjgrKoDoQ2OquInK-dtUwruLzq0bYus0qQgDB9BkC3SVQFnwGnXZ5LLJtUwlq39md-2-CA6sQO6xyWV2lBtxSl5joi8Vu1/s640/DSC02796.JPG" width="640" /></a></div></div>Jasminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15502177229226506301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1602467763265400220.post-43587683417080660192011-04-06T20:19:00.000-07:002011-05-02T20:08:22.573-07:00Wat what?<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Our first friends the police helped us to get in touch with our second friends the monks.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">In Chai Nat Theo and I went to the police station to ask them if they know a temple (Wat in Thai) where we could camp. First we were lost in translation. WAT WHAT?</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">What usually happens in those situations is: you get handed over a mobile phone and on the other line there is somebody that speaks a little bit of English. You explain what you want to the person on the phone, then you pass the phone back and your question gets translated. Nice! Two phone calls later we were told to hop onto the back of the police truck and were escorted to the temple by 4 policemen. A very friendly monk welcomed us and showed us where we can pitch our tent. The same monk didn’t want us to leave without breakfast the next morning and fed us with rice and a whole lot of other delicious and not so delicious dishes.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Every male Thai is expected to live as a monk at least once in his life. Only then does he become a man and his parents are proud of him. With Buddhism being the main religion in Thailand and this custom there are a lot of temples where monks live their strict life.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">Monks usually seem serious, a bit shy and distant, especially towards women. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">The young monks we encountered in the temple in Lampang were extraordinarily cheerful and were joking around whilst they taught us some Thai words. We stayed there for 2 nights and were spoiled with noodle soup, rice and all sorts of 7-11 sweets. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">On the morning we left we wanted to take part in their morning chanting. It needed a temple gong, my mobile phone and Theo’s shouts to wake me up at 4.30 in the morning. But I wasn’t the only one that struggled with getting out of bed. Out of the maybe 15 monks that were living there only 3 were inside the temple chanting in front of some Buddha statues and pictures of the king of Thailand. After the chanting that only went on for about half an hour I went back to sleep and I’m pretty sure some of the monks did the same. :-)</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">After waking up at a more reasonable time we took pictures with 2 of the monks and said our goodbyes.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">When we posed for the camera, there was always a security gap kept between the monks and me because women aren’t allowed to touch monks. The older monk (25 years old, has been living at the temple for 3 years) almost seemed scared that a sudden movement could accidentally cause a touch. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">I found out about this rule when I, without thinking much, to show my gratitude to a monk, for letting us stay at the temple, extended my arm for a handshake (after he shook Theo’s hand) and the monk gave me a shocked, puzzled look. Since then I’m always careful around monks.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">But apparently not all the monks take this precept serious. In Chiang Saen where I stayed at a temple, after Theo and I parted ways, I met a monk that came a little bit too close to me. We drank a coffee together and ate some sweets (I’m pretty sure the monk wasn’t allowed to do that :-). He asked me about my journey and I showed him some pictures on my camera and that’s when it happened. Our hands gently touched a couple of times. I backed off but the monk didn’t seem to mind the “accidental” contact. But let’s give him a break! The poor guy has been living at the temple for ten years!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">In the morning before I left, he showed a lot of interest in the things I have in my backpack. I showed him my tent, my sleeping bag, the bag with my clothes in it, my bike repair stuff, my medicine… And then he discovered some tampons and pointed at them with question marks in his eyes. With hand signals he asked if they are little packet of face cream. I wanted to say yes just because I really didn’t fancy explaining it to him in sign language :-) but I was scared that lying to a monk would give me bad karma. So I decided just to tell him that they are things only women need and thank god (or Buddha) he left it at that.<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9vKwASDUV_8C6DJ6ourClGHVRxyQl3u049Nu7lR1LCvqxDtq5DFF9eW6XqrHZRd_XM5GtiHn90g2u4Bqdh9yoBA77Put18xmFJDklbuWSb17RBUdIDtFtbWBV2Nhz9WFMVVltrKRWRqZn/s1600/DSC02768.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9vKwASDUV_8C6DJ6ourClGHVRxyQl3u049Nu7lR1LCvqxDtq5DFF9eW6XqrHZRd_XM5GtiHn90g2u4Bqdh9yoBA77Put18xmFJDklbuWSb17RBUdIDtFtbWBV2Nhz9WFMVVltrKRWRqZn/s640/DSC02768.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNn4cW3bAKlRFuFNRHbgquzqoMK-FlkTdqwFw2UegHWg1-5JemNkHqahmsd1OYTzNyceEq2Lqdf_11WveGOTYG-HkE-DQTjKNWP85iLIcbInyDYBXkDfw9snk-tWbHiiIQih11AiMoJEaq/s1600/DSC02773.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNn4cW3bAKlRFuFNRHbgquzqoMK-FlkTdqwFw2UegHWg1-5JemNkHqahmsd1OYTzNyceEq2Lqdf_11WveGOTYG-HkE-DQTjKNWP85iLIcbInyDYBXkDfw9snk-tWbHiiIQih11AiMoJEaq/s640/DSC02773.JPG" width="490" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Temple in Chai Nat</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-gbsUsjnhFq-5-OIjJLyKE1PmoYpfM2U4nxYh3Z0O2Nds5Xa-yUgtk5tF3xyR6e8IlB0j18sqJ4ftbhCUSpRfJpjvaC_fuSdHeyKvT45OD9O7avvEymjF3vOl7u3YEAN1B1sN59mEcEbV/s1600/DSC02797.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-gbsUsjnhFq-5-OIjJLyKE1PmoYpfM2U4nxYh3Z0O2Nds5Xa-yUgtk5tF3xyR6e8IlB0j18sqJ4ftbhCUSpRfJpjvaC_fuSdHeyKvT45OD9O7avvEymjF3vOl7u3YEAN1B1sN59mEcEbV/s640/DSC02797.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Temple in Sukhothai</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUcXeyZdLr2J_hnYI-ljTat-6alt8w9ppSSRPDPWCtoyFfZRR5U-WSdeX134TmaT86YmJ5Z4tVAN3YTKk5Ast3voYMHnVZOg7Cq2kMxPENg8yNLZrOQa9vuc8YUofmzoHrd1l-Tk5O3D1k/s1600/DSC02805.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUcXeyZdLr2J_hnYI-ljTat-6alt8w9ppSSRPDPWCtoyFfZRR5U-WSdeX134TmaT86YmJ5Z4tVAN3YTKk5Ast3voYMHnVZOg7Cq2kMxPENg8yNLZrOQa9vuc8YUofmzoHrd1l-Tk5O3D1k/s640/DSC02805.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Temple in Uttaradit</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjfmQD1ENs30IPE7BzHRbwCZQjw9n4LMScpur-L8IB9arjhx1u0VrpkTSvmKEdYsVOE_r-_yqJ6HCwhsEhfxbMt6oqYpOCuZK0uNSjHxrEj8qgQbSBLpkifTLzpJlmJ-tfip1PgpA_BHyG/s1600/DSC02827.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjfmQD1ENs30IPE7BzHRbwCZQjw9n4LMScpur-L8IB9arjhx1u0VrpkTSvmKEdYsVOE_r-_yqJ6HCwhsEhfxbMt6oqYpOCuZK0uNSjHxrEj8qgQbSBLpkifTLzpJlmJ-tfip1PgpA_BHyG/s640/DSC02827.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Monks from the temple in Lampang</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbjtv1WVsybmaL5AFQnqOCBfSFO1hM1zu8mRB7qHNDvyzkBxu9bNSENzgUNwML8yprc2vb9nYWwV94FbS5qFtEjIKXETNb4aooDPYwLZAVKE8x2orDx4lh7xO_6hqEM8UPTlbOAkXvLiHI/s1600/DSC02884.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbjtv1WVsybmaL5AFQnqOCBfSFO1hM1zu8mRB7qHNDvyzkBxu9bNSENzgUNwML8yprc2vb9nYWwV94FbS5qFtEjIKXETNb4aooDPYwLZAVKE8x2orDx4lh7xO_6hqEM8UPTlbOAkXvLiHI/s640/DSC02884.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Temple in Chiang Rai</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhufQLx199p53yokNxMyfPW_VM_cyGuAiDC975ifFbDDKkupUkFvD8MZ2CZ8Larq1ZHoBTRgNd7CXwHEZp_JAmu1iZDHHPLzg6uJpCzQ-dmEvO3YL0o68sQ2LfrPOnjS9chdvtfvDvlmOo8/s1600/DSC02905.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhufQLx199p53yokNxMyfPW_VM_cyGuAiDC975ifFbDDKkupUkFvD8MZ2CZ8Larq1ZHoBTRgNd7CXwHEZp_JAmu1iZDHHPLzg6uJpCzQ-dmEvO3YL0o68sQ2LfrPOnjS9chdvtfvDvlmOo8/s640/DSC02905.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Monk in Chiang Saen</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div>Jasminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15502177229226506301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1602467763265400220.post-85201975191788349852011-04-04T10:09:00.000-07:002011-05-02T19:41:45.168-07:00Tourist Police: Your first friend<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We only read the slogan of the tourist police AFTER we’ve already had the pleasure of experiencing their hospitality. They really were our first friends!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In Ayutthaya, 80 kilometers from Bangkok, we wanted to spend our first night. We arrived after dark, very tired and hungry, although we’ve eaten dust all day long, and had no clue whether it would be possible to find free camping spots in the cities of Thailand. It was a nice surprise to find out it was VERY easy. When we asked the man at the tourist police if he knows a safe camp spot, of course I was hoping he would point to the back where I saw a nice lawn. But that we also had a toilet, a shower, a kitchen, a table and Wi-Fi at the “campsite” THAT I didn’t expect. And there’s more: in a lot of the places we even got food! Great friends indeed!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">From this day on, whenever we arrived in a city with a tourist police station we paid our first friends a visit.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We now know the tourist police of Ayutthaya, Nakhon Sawan (where I even got myself a new facebook friend), Phitsanulok, Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai and the regular Police of Sukhothai.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Here’s a little rating: (not to be taken too seriously of course)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ayutthaya: </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">+ very friendly, good facilities, mangos from the tree in the yard, free use of the kitchen and fridge, it’s possible to stay a second night</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">- very aggressive mosquito’s, we were shooed away from the table when the officers wanted to take a break</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Nakhon Sawan:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">+ very friendly, facilities to cook water for noodle-soup, free guavas and wi-fi and possibility to charge electronic devices</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">- no lawn, hard ground, very annoying barking dogs, the door gets closed at night so no toilet</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Phitsanulok:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">+ very relaxed atmosphere, whiskey on ice and a roof to put your tent under in case of rain</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">- retarded dogs, no shower in the women’s toilet so I had to use the men’s shower where I bumped into a peeing policeman when I was walking out</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sukhothai:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">+ nice after they understood what we wanted, a woman gave us mangos, sticky rice and water (but I’m not sure if the police should get credit for that)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">- wanted to send us to a guesthouse, language barrier, can’t compete with the tourist police standards</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Chiang Mai:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">+ very funny and helpful, good location, very nice garden and huge lawn right by the river, wi-fi can be used inside where it’s nice and cool, they cook a delicious soup with fresh herbs from the garden</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">- depending on the officer the mood ranges from super friendly to very frosty, no shower facilitiy (BUT on the positive side: Every Thai toilet can be used as a shower if you just duck down and use the hose that is meant to clean one part of your body but just as useful to clean the rest!)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Chiang Rai:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">+ offered us a place inside the house, got leftover food from lunch, provided mosquito nets and even acted as tourist information</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">- kicked us out the second night</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">They were all great and it’s hard to pick a favorite. Chiang Mai could have won the race by miles but then they played good cop bad cop with us…This is how the story goes: </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I cycled to Chiang Mai while Theo was hitchhiking. Despite of his head start in Chiang Mai I was the one who tracked down the tourist police first. I didn’t even plan to ask for a camp spot, first I wanted to talk to Theo to see if he has already found a place to sleep. The officer that walked out of the station to welcome me seemed so easygoing that just jokingly I pointed at the nice garden behind the building and said “THIS would be a lovely camping sp…”. I didn’t even have to finish my sentence and the lawn was offered to me. The next morning another super friendly officer brought us a bowl of soup, with fresh leaves from their garden. And another officer told us that we can stay as long as we want.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In the afternoon the mood changed. All the good cops seemed to have gone and out came the ones with the grim faces that seemed to think “What the fuck are you people doing here? Why don’t you go to a hotel?” Suddenly we weren’t welcome anymore and were asked to leave tomorrow. Fair enough.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Nevertheless the tourist police will stay our first friend. After all there are many more good cops than there are bad cops.</span><br />
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<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Ayutthaya</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSrGlJkxtvS2jReSLubhNMaJ1Ws3N1xqEpoyD_ME2HJ28hY2DgY8LcAX7dWVenWAcEZ49op7Rh3x-yEKBM4lKyKO2sm9k4j1Wec3gegZwr3rwVTsn9InCp1-5Fpt0uNkKwS0QzCspmhIK-/s1600/DSC02778.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="446" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSrGlJkxtvS2jReSLubhNMaJ1Ws3N1xqEpoyD_ME2HJ28hY2DgY8LcAX7dWVenWAcEZ49op7Rh3x-yEKBM4lKyKO2sm9k4j1Wec3gegZwr3rwVTsn9InCp1-5Fpt0uNkKwS0QzCspmhIK-/s640/DSC02778.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Tourist police in Nakhon Sawan</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7sACUpgGPzFWoYVgr463M399pOS2p9XiakX3hzp2Vdd-4r4XLws-_P-EtnAxCFSKynl9flpOgjBNeo1cykoVspv47QbKF6ADPru88nt_wwd2abt4gNoH9dCxHAt1k5JvaD01ODpX-7lD-/s1600/DSC02787.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7sACUpgGPzFWoYVgr463M399pOS2p9XiakX3hzp2Vdd-4r4XLws-_P-EtnAxCFSKynl9flpOgjBNeo1cykoVspv47QbKF6ADPru88nt_wwd2abt4gNoH9dCxHAt1k5JvaD01ODpX-7lD-/s640/DSC02787.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Tourist Police in Phitsanulok</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm1j4VDcPV6OSw_OU8ai19228hP1MCNhTl3Ro064p2fjCNkXzd8VU51rntmoRD2soLGZFnE1X4sA2EdQSnytYE1orywholg9yt8BiJpAufuMTdG2QeW_e04BCPTlJYQYNWlrQQ3omn0xng/s1600/DSC02793.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm1j4VDcPV6OSw_OU8ai19228hP1MCNhTl3Ro064p2fjCNkXzd8VU51rntmoRD2soLGZFnE1X4sA2EdQSnytYE1orywholg9yt8BiJpAufuMTdG2QeW_e04BCPTlJYQYNWlrQQ3omn0xng/s640/DSC02793.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Police station in Sukhothai</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu3yJ6fbkG8ajxQUPWqHbVyB5DSxCn-LeaCKOtDvu9MPPdmi5JVOXt9ulnQXm-Krwd5IzbPNumRZ0rWHS1wwnDF2gbRNXBBTGWcoj0xnuCjkiRaxwwYdA3kcPxNfscF3_8ai0oZMLYQiJy/s1600/DSC02839.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu3yJ6fbkG8ajxQUPWqHbVyB5DSxCn-LeaCKOtDvu9MPPdmi5JVOXt9ulnQXm-Krwd5IzbPNumRZ0rWHS1wwnDF2gbRNXBBTGWcoj0xnuCjkiRaxwwYdA3kcPxNfscF3_8ai0oZMLYQiJy/s640/DSC02839.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Tourist police in Chiang Mai</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidHGET9ek82YulomyOLzpJ_-97urKRC0Z6Y_txZo76v0KBk1k3hhnfdUPv3HqGYSnS7uQv1xxFZbGYtMOBRJ87zvVeRsSaaAvpH0KccirkFnEY5J9hvEm__VPU_eieSa57zpA7t7RTWio5/s1600/DSC02877.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidHGET9ek82YulomyOLzpJ_-97urKRC0Z6Y_txZo76v0KBk1k3hhnfdUPv3HqGYSnS7uQv1xxFZbGYtMOBRJ87zvVeRsSaaAvpH0KccirkFnEY5J9hvEm__VPU_eieSa57zpA7t7RTWio5/s640/DSC02877.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Tourist police in Chiang Rai</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div>Jasminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15502177229226506301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1602467763265400220.post-18954246018191029982011-04-03T04:04:00.000-07:002011-05-02T18:52:53.094-07:00Ready? Steady? Go!<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">North or South? Which way should we go? The night before our departure, the decision fell on North, towards Chiang Mai.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our bicycles stood ready outside of Toom’s house, loaded with the heavy weight of our backpacks. Sweat was dripping from my forehead, when I made last amendments to the basket that was dangling from my handlebars, attached in DIY-style with cable tie and a piece of string. It was HOT, but I could not wait to start cycling…cycling away from the dust that covered Bangkok, into a new adventure.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Helmets on our heads, dust masks covering our faces and off we were. After a couple of hours cycling under the blazing sun I thought it would be wise to have long sleeves to cover my arms. Since I didn’t have a long sleeve shirt, I created sleeves out of a piece of cloth, which so far had the purpose of covering my shoulders when I wanted to enter temples in India. Because it looks kind of like a magic cape, I think it’s not only protecting me from the sun!</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4KTh4SSS-i5j84FWih9KIn_jki9_VTsO6Fn6MNV8aIQUq2lmvQZPQhr0F5fhjAvEZGcuo_A_1queFYflZ80ZyXIgtA-j-DMKQrZck1ajTVfCW8VmmdiE60xzbS1DQxjPh_kwB2fZrwUE9/s1600/DSC02757.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4KTh4SSS-i5j84FWih9KIn_jki9_VTsO6Fn6MNV8aIQUq2lmvQZPQhr0F5fhjAvEZGcuo_A_1queFYflZ80ZyXIgtA-j-DMKQrZck1ajTVfCW8VmmdiE60xzbS1DQxjPh_kwB2fZrwUE9/s640/DSC02757.JPG" width="640" /></a></div></div>Jasminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15502177229226506301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1602467763265400220.post-40451836475641576582011-04-01T02:48:00.000-07:002011-05-02T18:56:44.086-07:00It all started with shopping<m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In Bangkok Theo and I were on a mission: To make the dream come true, the first thing we needed was: a bicycle! On our way through Bangkok we didn’t show any interest whatsoever in all the beautiful temples and Buddha statues we were passing every now and then. We only had eyes for those 2-wheelers. The ones that don’t make a sound, when they glide over the asphalted roads. And, by the way, are very rarely seen on the busy and VERY polluted streets of Bangkok.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We had a bad start, because the busses didn’t seem to work in our favor. We missed our stop, we took the wrong bus or we were on a bus with the right number but the wrong destination. When we were walking around instead, we weren’t much luckier though. We got lost so many times; we started to wonder if Bangkok was spinning around itself. I guess coming from an eco village with 100 people to a capital city with 8 million inhabitants, was just too big of a change!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">After having spent 2 nights at a so called budget hotel in the city centre, we moved to Toom’s place in the north of Bangkok. Toom is a couchsurfer with a big house, who was hosting 8 others besides us.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">On our second day, after we were lead from one market to the other and from one street to the other, a bicycle shop miraculously appeared in front of us and inside we found two second hand mountain bikes. They needed some changes, but they were perfect. Three days later, when we were supposed to pick them up we started to have second thoughts about the price and the quality. We were talking in front of the bicycle shop for a long time and missed what was happening right in front of our eyes: </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A Belgian couple sold the bikes they have been riding around Southeast Asia to the shop owner. With one ear I heard them telling it to the German couple who were fixing their bikes next to us. I looked at the bikes. It was love on first sight! I ran after the Belgian couple and after a little chat they went back into the bicycle shop and bought the bikes they just sold back and sold them to us. That’s how Theo and I became proud owners of two bicycles. Two bicycles we have only SEEN for about a minute. Thank god the frames fitted us!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxqnFOeS9G2rMDlrFTzC0evt63xxHmSqeKmtqYF2zJVl-MLV-Tp3TIL8afmoCvhrF5Pdf87OCJ4VLN9DRomVcAbg7ajAqaUKejt8bPEMJLBUYuWrhMzjN7zmMxRyokOAyn2Pg5yElL1mJx/s1600/DSC02702.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxqnFOeS9G2rMDlrFTzC0evt63xxHmSqeKmtqYF2zJVl-MLV-Tp3TIL8afmoCvhrF5Pdf87OCJ4VLN9DRomVcAbg7ajAqaUKejt8bPEMJLBUYuWrhMzjN7zmMxRyokOAyn2Pg5yElL1mJx/s640/DSC02702.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption">Sold!</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg65CAmwJ4UoGfjIBfE2OUXJ1YqCqjL26Wt_mS-uek6G4xRY_g0Ytx9zwc-ot7WHUYhTZPNaT7SMvhkM3OvnvYNIYOdO1BzMKWShtB4T8xAlXiY47Mf4O-I4avOCe_cEZ3bc9epA-t0BiQB/s1600/DSC02705.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg65CAmwJ4UoGfjIBfE2OUXJ1YqCqjL26Wt_mS-uek6G4xRY_g0Ytx9zwc-ot7WHUYhTZPNaT7SMvhkM3OvnvYNIYOdO1BzMKWShtB4T8xAlXiY47Mf4O-I4avOCe_cEZ3bc9epA-t0BiQB/s640/DSC02705.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSDntgIUf3BWTBGBUR-0c_Zl7jjs4pveh6MrP8gPFATa3GqHBr71vfQZ4wsxnXJk1hk05hVRUvp3Ot0G6zZI7DjPK5oX_oMcJ_7_Ye170QkexUlWBs-uBtroCqtD3DalQU3R2qzLWW3rcV/s1600/DSC02732.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSDntgIUf3BWTBGBUR-0c_Zl7jjs4pveh6MrP8gPFATa3GqHBr71vfQZ4wsxnXJk1hk05hVRUvp3Ot0G6zZI7DjPK5oX_oMcJ_7_Ye170QkexUlWBs-uBtroCqtD3DalQU3R2qzLWW3rcV/s640/DSC02732.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Toom our host (apparently VERY happy about our departure :/...) and us ready to hit the road.</span></span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSDntgIUf3BWTBGBUR-0c_Zl7jjs4pveh6MrP8gPFATa3GqHBr71vfQZ4wsxnXJk1hk05hVRUvp3Ot0G6zZI7DjPK5oX_oMcJ_7_Ye170QkexUlWBs-uBtroCqtD3DalQU3R2qzLWW3rcV/s1600/DSC02732.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSDntgIUf3BWTBGBUR-0c_Zl7jjs4pveh6MrP8gPFATa3GqHBr71vfQZ4wsxnXJk1hk05hVRUvp3Ot0G6zZI7DjPK5oX_oMcJ_7_Ye170QkexUlWBs-uBtroCqtD3DalQU3R2qzLWW3rcV/s1600/DSC02732.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div></div>Jasminhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15502177229226506301noreply@blogger.com0